


Episode 64: ...Then Comes a Fall

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [64]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clan, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26496556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "We did everything we could, and I trust Aviila." ~Xotolicue, Alor YaunIt's always a good thing to have a friend who is suspicious of everything. They'd be the first to spot danger...
Series: Clan Meso'a [64]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261364
Kudos: 1





	Episode 64: ...Then Comes a Fall

“Buir,” said Koucitesh, letting her spear fall to the floor and rushing down the aisle to her mother in law being held on either side by her son and husband.  
Baba Weiyn grabbed her arms and allowed the Alor to help her forward, but her good eye flushed with tears was locked on the image of Jiik projected from the holotable. Falkit and Palouta respectfully moved aside. When they reached the table, Weiyn let go of Koucitesh and stood trembling before them. She clapped one hand over her mouth, the other outstretched as if to touch Jiik’s face.  
“Riduur, riduur,” she sobbed, turning back to her husband who had paused a few feet behind her. She gestured to the image, unable to form words and instead mouthing inaudibly. Taerh’a prompted his father forward gently, but the older man seemed incapable of moving. He stammered something no one could make out then joined his wife at the table, his own hand cupping the side of Jiik’s face. His fingers passed through Jiik’s cheek before he drew the hand back to his wife’s arm, pulling her against him. Taerha’s hand slipped into Koucitesh’s; she acknowledged him by squeezing it.  
Aviila nodded and clasped her hands behind her back.  
“Ta Aviila Vin’haria’n Meso’a, Xibal’hunitz be Xalaraac Enad,” she declared, “Ta’naal’ra, Am’jiik, enad be Chanweiyn a Naracho!”  
Falkit’s chest swelled as did Jiik’s. He raised his chin to her; Aviila echoed him.  
“Some distraction,” observed Teika, “You sure he’s… I mean they’re talking an awful lot.”  
Beun shrugged, trying to focus on plugging the coordinates in.  
“We just need to focus on getting there,” she said, momentarily making eye contact with Fent.  
“Mace?” Beon put a hand on her pauldron.  
She shook her head, blinking in surprise, “I’ve never,” she took a deep breath, “I’ve never heard it spoken, not… in real time.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Last call!” Beun said over the intercom.  
“Just,” Beon caught Maceon by the arm as she made for the doorway, “What do you mean ‘in real time’?”  
“Xoto,” Doaxa prompted, still with her arm in Nina’s.  
He turned to her and studied her for a moment, then returned to Weiyn and Cho speaking in hushed tones across the holotable from him. Eventually, his gaze drifted from alor to alor, ending with Dedel. The older Zabrak had a look of determination on his face, a look all too familiar to Xotolicue. It was a challenge, an interest in how he would handle this situation. He straightened his shoulders back and clasped his hands behind him.  
“I trust Aviila,” he asserted.  
Koucitesh squeezed Taerha’s hand tightly, giving her Alor, her friend, a firm nod of approval and relief. Falkit crossed his arms, but said nothing; Palouta rubbed his temples.  
“I,” he began, but hesitated, “have never wavered in my trust for her.”  
“But?”  
The indigenous male shook his head, “Something is very, very wrong,” he looked around the room, “And I think you all know that.”  
“Assemble the elders, then,” suggested Koucitesh, “This is a matter for the full council. They are nearby, I know many stayed in the city as a contingency.”  
Xoto nodded, “Doaxa,” he turned to the Akjah, “Your husband and son, send for them as well.”  
She inhaled sharply and swallowed, nodded to him, then gathered her skirt and made for the aisle. Koucitesh and Taerh’a moved to the side as she and Nina passed, watching them until they were out of sight around the corner. Teya slumped down into her chair and clasped her hands in her lap.  
“I… will wait here for them,” she said, her voice shaky.  
Alor Yaun leaned against the holotable, his prosthetic tendril hanging in front of him. He silently watched the exchange between Aviila and Jiik, studying both her and the Togruta like a strategist surveying the battlefield. 

“Aviila,” Chellin addressed her after a moment’s silence, “I want to thank you for speaking with us.”  
She regarded him, “You are?”  
“Ordo’s Alor,” Jiik answered for him, “and my brother, Chellin.”  
“And you trust him?”  
“With my life,” Jiik made a fist, “He and his family took me in. They’re the reason I stand before you now.”  
Chellin smiled slightly, but opted to say nothing.  
She nodded, “I will speak with the council on your behalf, Am’jiik, but I make no promises.”  
“I wouldn’t expect any.”  
A slight smile crossed her face, but it quickly vanished. She looked up over his head, and Jiik followed her gaze. Behind them, one of the technicians was standing there looking as though he’d been waiting a while. He shot to attention.  
“Speak,” said Chellin.  
“Anhari and Seru,” he said, “They’re waiting on the other channel.”  
“Go, watch your family’s hunt,” Aviila said, pulling down her visor and snapping it shut, “I will wait for your retrieval party.”  
Jiik turned back to her and opened his mouth to speak, then stopped himself. She raised his chin to him, he echoed her; she cut the feed, her image winking out on both their end and on Falstra.  
Maceon let out the breath she’d been holding in as Aviila vanished. She was strapped in beside Noga’n across from Beon and Lyse. The gold Twi’lek had been lost in her own thoughts; Beon, however, was still watching Maceon. She met his eyes for a moment and an uncertainty passed from her to him, though he wasn’t sure of what. He looked up at Fent, but he was preoccupied with the navicomputer despite there being nothing for him to do. On Lyse’s left, Teika was alternating between the ground, Noga’n, and Lyse. Noga’n looked sick; Lyse nervous. Teika felt a mixture of elation at seeing his friend, his sister, again, but also a sickly dread eating away at his stomach. He had way more questions than answers, and to be honest knew very little about the situation other than the sparse details he’d gotten out of Fent and Beon. Inter-clan politics was not his speciality, and he’d made a point not to take on hunts outside of the greater Onderon system. Beast hunts and bodyguard work for stuck up nobles was far more his speed than the bounty hunting Fent and Beon often did. Then again, he had the luxury of having steady work with Beun that afforded him to take on local jobs. He understood why Beon wouldn’t want to be stuck with his sister all day, but not Fent. Whatever the two had gotten themselves into was the same thing that took Jecho from them. He gripped the safety harness and clenched his jaw as a spot of turbulence shook the ship. When Fallstra settled, he looked back up at Noga’n. He was pale again, paler than normal, and his eyes were shut. He was either about to be sick or he was struggling with something internally. Gone were the days when Teika would pry, but sometimes he wished he hadn’t stopped. It didn’t seem like Noga’n really wanted to talk about much anymore. He and Lyse had some unspoken friendship it seemed. He often saw her helping Noga’n to and from the medbay. He knew nothing romantic was going on, or at least he assumed so, but maybe she hadn’t stopped prying? Maybe she understood him where Teika hadn’t? For him, losing Jecho was a lot like losing his brothers. Eventually, it stopped hurting and he moved on, he had to. He figured Jecho would do the same because she knew what that loss was like…. He shook his head and tried to focus on steadying himself as Falstra swerved around a rogue bit of floating debris… and another bit… and another.  
“What is this?” Fent said out loud, turning on Falstra’s outer floodlights, illuminating shredded hunks of mutilated wreckage.  
All eyes turned to the cockpit window as the distant, undulating shadows of stray metal gave way to a burning mass suspended in space… 

“We’ve done what he can,” Alor Yaun said after a while. He pushed the prosthetic back into place behind his pauldron and straightened up, “Aviila?.”  
Her image reappeared over the table.  
“Le, alor.” She raised her chin to him.  
He sighed, “Ta mok’xotlan, ner’vod.” [lit. I sent for that; “I asked for one thing”]  
She tapped the air with her finger, “Le, per ta tac’pix a til, ner’alor.” [Yes, but I’ve planted a seed for later].  
“At what cost?” he asked, shaking his head.  
“That’s,” she paused, startled by a proximity alert on the dashboard.  
“What is it?” Jecho asked, coming back into the room with Cara in tow.  
“Another ship,” said Aviila, pulling up a holo image of the incoming vessel, “Looks like your friends didn’t waste any time.”  
Cara’s eyes lit up and she skipped up to the dashboard to see what kind of ship Fent and Beon were arriving in.  
“But... that’s not Falstra.”  
Cara and Aviila looked back at Jecho.  
“What is Falstra?” asked Yaun as the image of the other ship was projected on their end.  
“Beun’s ship,” Jecho explained, “It’s called Falstra, but it doesn’t look like that.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes, I-”  
The ship rumbled for a moment and the com crackled off. Jecho instinctively grabbed Cara and pulled her back from the cockpit window as the other ship, a dark grey shadow against the void of space, grew closer. 

Anhari smiled as Jiik’s face appeared on the holocom between herself and Seru.  
“Is Tir with you?” she asked.  
Jiik nodded, his mind still disoriented from his talk with Aviila.  
“I’m here!” Tir said, pushing between Jiik and the holo node.  
“Sending the scan now,” said Seru as he keyed in the last few commands.  
Beside them, a holographic ship bloomed in the air and rotated slowly before Jiik and Tir.  
“Woah,” said Talva looking it over, “That’s a weird looking ship.”  
Jiik, who hadn’t fully been paying attention, now looked up at the ship… and his eyes grew very wide.  
“Anhari don’t-” but his words were cut off as the ship shook and the coms fizzled out.  
Anhari and Seru looked at each other, the latter beginning to fiddle with the com to try and restore it.  
“No use,” his mother said, “We’re being jammed.”  
“By who?”  
She pointed out at the ship barely visible in darkness, “Guess our target was expecting us.”  
Seru followed her gaze out at the other ship. He grinned.  
“Makes the hunt all the more fun?”  
She nodded, a twisted smile spreading across her face. Vengeance at last...


End file.
